


Just Like Heaven

by HedgePodge



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism not mentioned, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mostly fluff with the tiniest helping of emotion, Probably ooc, Will has self esteem issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedgePodge/pseuds/HedgePodge
Summary: After Will falls on a chase, he has very little ability to do anything with his hand. The injury forces both Hannibal and Will to take some time off work, allowing them to reconnect and discover another, more domestic side to their relationship. Hannibal loves taking care of Will, but Will doesn't want to be seen as weak. Will the pair be able to balance past errors and this new side to their relationship?----Basically a soft, indulgent fic of Hannibal caring for Will.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 49





	1. I Must've Been Asleep For Days

“Arm hurts,” mumbled Will. He was slumped against Hannibal’s side, eyes closed against the bright hospital lighting. Hannibal’s arm was wrapped around his waist, keeping Will upright while he settled things with the nurse. At least, that’s what Will thought Hannibal was doing. It was difficult to tell, his brain felt like it was underwater. 

“Mmm,” Hannibal hummed sympathetically, raking a distracted hand through Will’s hair. The nurse was saying something important, Will was certain of it, but his muddled brain couldn’t break through the fog of painkillers to listen. 

It had started out as a normal operation; Will and the team had been making their way through the forest to the latest murder site, when Will, in all his gracefulness, had tripped on a rock. Several hours in the hospital later, Will was released with a cast on his fractured left wrist and bandages on his slashed right hand. 

Oh yeah-- had he mentioned he’d fallen palms-out onto a piece of glass? It was unclear how the glass made its way to the middle of the forest, but Will supposed that question would have to be answered another time. Perhaps when he wasn’t so tired.

Using the arm around Will’s waist to bear most of his weight, Hannibal dragged Will carefully to the exit. “You really should be more careful, Will.” The chastisement was gentle, spoken in a soft tone which Will had grown to love over the course of their relationship. Will hummed and pressed his face deeper into Hannibal’s side, causing a soft laugh to huff out of the older man.  Hannibal half lifted, half pushed Will into the car, sliding in after him. Will felt very-- floppy, that was the word. He felt like his limbs weren’t working, though he supposed that was partially true. Somewhere in his foggy brain, a voice told him to sit up, open his eyes properly, and act more respectable. Will ignored the voice, flopped onto his boyfriend’s shoulder, and promptly fell asleep. 

****

Will woke up in his own bed, a welcome change from the over-bright hospital. Well, he supposed it was really Hannibal’s bed -- he’d moved into Hannibal’s house just a month prior. The bed was outrageously large, of course, just as the rest of the house was. Will didn’t suppose he would ever get used to it. He had gotten used to the sheets, though; certainly the highest thread count Will had ever slept in. It was like waking up in a cloud every morning. 

Will stretched his arms into the sky, nearly hitting his nose with his cast in the process. “That should take some getting used to,” Will said aloud. Ah yes- the bright blue cast he’d forgotten all about. Because Hannibal loved Will in blue, and Will loved Hannibal. Hannibal, who was noticeably absent from his side of the bed (which was still perfectly made). 

Unfortunately, Hannibal’s absence was hardly unusual. Their work schedules had both picked up since moving in together, so much so that Will felt he’d seen Hannibal more when they were only dating. The only times he’d seen Hannibal had been for sleeping and the occasional dinner here and there. Will couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a proper date. One of them always seemed to be coming home late, the other leaving early in the morning. Will couldn’t blame Hannibal, he knew his work was important -- and besides, Will was just as guilty of overworking. It didn’t make it any easier, though. Will woke up every morning in a big, empty house completely alone, and usually went to bed the same way. 

Just a few days earlier, Will had tried to bring it up with Hannibal. It was late at night, the only time they’d had a moment together in several days. “I’d like to see you more,” Will had whispered while he planted a kiss on Hannibal’s cheek. If he had been fully awake, Hannibal would have understood what Will meant; he’d always had an uncanny ability to see through to what Will was really saying. ‘I miss you’ Will had meant, ‘we can’t go on like this’. But Hannibal had been half asleep, preparing to wake up early the next day. 

“I love you,” Hannibal had murmured, rubbing a hand over Will’s back. Hannibal had fallen asleep, but Will had been awake for hours. He’d been determined to see Hannibal in the morning and bring up the subject again, but he hadn’t woken up before Hannibal left. Nothing had changed since, for either of them. 

Will knew that nothing would change now, either; though Will had taken the next week off work to recover, Hannibal would still be gone. Will drew his knees close to his chest and pressed his face into them. ‘It’s the pain pills that are making me emotional,’ he told himself. He was preparing himself mentally to either get up and make breakfast, or cry (Will hadn’t decided yet), when the door began to open. 

Hannibal pushed the door open with his hip, his arms taken up by a large tray. It was stocked full of breakfast food: bacon, scrambled eggs, toast with some sort of red jam, and coffee. “Oh good, you’re awake.” Hannibal frowned, “are you okay?”

Will straightened his legs out in front of him so he wouldn’t be in such a pitiful looking posture. “Yes!” he said brightly. Too brightly, Hannibal looked worried. “You brought me breakfast in bed?” Will couldn’t help but look surprised. Hannibal’s gaze was searching, trying to look through him and figure out what was upsetting Will. Will broke eye contact and took great pains to arrange the blanket over his lap. 

Hannibal sighed, “don’t look so surprised. You act like I’ve never done anything nice for you.” He sounded sad, not indignant or angry. Will didn’t respond. Of course Hannibal had done nice things for him but... it had been so long, and they both knew it. 

After carefully placing the tray over Will’s lap, Hannibal knelt next to the bed. He cradled Will’s cast-hand between his own. When his eyes met Will’s, they were remorseful. “I owe you an apology,” Hannibal said, “I heard you the other night, when you said you wanted to see me more. I’ve treated you terribly, haven’t I?” His voice was whisper quiet, and so sincere it made Will’s heart ache. 

Will turned his head away and pretended he was deeply fascinated by the bedside table. “We both could be better,” he shrugged, like it didn’t matter. Like he hadn’t thought ‘crying all morning’ was a viable option for him today. Will knew his voice was thick with emotion, and it bothered him. Here he was, deeply upset, over what? A few busy weeks at work? The fact that Hannibal had stopped wanting anything to do with him the second Will was always available? 

Yes, that was the one. 

With a gentle hand against his cheek, Hannibal moved Will’s face back so they could meet eyes. “I want to make it up to you, Will. I’m your boyfriend, it shouldn’t have taken an injury for us to have breakfast together.”

“You’re taking too much of the blame. It’s my fault, too.” 

“You cannot take the blame for everything.” Hannibal was right, as usual. Will always seemed to throw himself under the bus for every small problem, even when it was out of his control. “Let me take the blame just this once, and let me make it up to you. I’ve taken the next two weeks off work; we can spend the whole time together, do whatever you’d like.” Hannibal smiled hopefully, but Will couldn’t bring himself to yet. 

“You took it off because of my injury, right?” Will would scowl at Hannibal, yell and get angry, if he didn’t feel so horribly empty. “I don’t want to force you to spend time with me. I’d rather have you back at work, if the alternative is time spent with someone who doesn’t want to be near me.” Internally, Will cursed his big mouth. He was getting time with Hannibal, wasn’t he? Isn’t that what he wanted?

“You think I don’t want to be near you?” Hannibal was horrified, mouth agape, like Will had just told him he was secretly a swamp monster. 

Will responded only with a shrug. Having said it aloud, Will realized two things: how utterly absurd it sounded, and how utterly true he felt it was. 

Hannibal stood, a determined set to his jaw. “I swear to you Will, nothing could be further from the truth. I deeply apologize that you ever had to feel that way.” Will couldn’t turn away from his intensely sincere gaze. He felt he was drowning in the sea of Hannibal’s eyes, a pool of many emotions: Sadness, determination...love. “I promise I will make it up to you. Consider breakfast as the first of many nice things I will do for you, Will Graham.” Hannibal had always had a flair for the dramatic. 

Will couldn’t help but smile, just a little. He loved how genuine Hannibal was, more so than any of his past partners. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said, moving his cast up and down in Hannibal’s cupped hands like they’d conducted a business deal. 

With graceful movements, Hannibal settled into the bed next to Will. Everything he did was graceful. “You can have the bacon, if you like,” Will offered, “I’m a little nauseous from the pain meds.” Hannibal smiled, like it was a great peace offering. 

Will touched the fingers of his right hand to the mug, determining that it was sufficiently cooled. He wrapped his bandaged hand around the mug. Attempting to lift it to his mouth resulted in a pained hiss, as the gripping motion pulled uncomfortably on his lacerated palm. 

“Here, let me help you,” Hannibal said, grabbing the mug from him. 

“You don’t need to-- oh.” Hannibal held the cup up to Will’s lips, an unbearably soft expression on his face. Will obligingly took a sip, locking eyes with Hannibal the whole time. Will was certain he had never seen an expression like that from Hannibal before. Sure, Hannibal had looked at him with love, adoration, even tenderness, but never with such soft sweetness. It was the sort of expression which a groom might have when he first sees his bride, coming down the aisle; ready to start their lives together… 

And that was as far as Will was willing to take that particular thought. He took another careful sip. 

“This position is rather uncomfortable,” said Hannibal, “if you move over here, that might be easier.” A few moments of awkward shuffling around later, Will was seated in the space between Hannibal’s legs, back against his chest and the tray over both of their laps. Hannibal reached around him to collect a spoonful of food, bringing it up to Will’s mouth with incredible patience and care. 

He was sure Hannibal hadn’t intended it this way, but something about the positioning made Will’s head spin. Hannibal’s chest was warm against his back, the rise and fall of his chest in time with his own. Hannibal’s breath swept over his ear and caressed his cheek, while his arms held tight, but not uncomfortably so, around Will’s body. Every now and then, Hannibal would press a kiss to his neck, or whisper a compliment in his ear. Will’s skin tingled from the attention. He was surrounded on all sides by Hannibal: his scent, his body, everything. Will put his cast-hand onto Hannibal’s thigh, grasping for any source of stability. He felt lightheaded in the best way, like he was descending on a rollercoaster. 

“Are you alright, Will?” Hannibal whispered. Will failed to suppress a shiver.

“Yes.” Will worried he would break the ambiance, the lovely haziness that surrounded them, if he spoke above a whisper. “It’s just… nice, that’s all.” He had almost forgotten the sadness of earlier. This felt new and oh so exciting. 

“We can stay like this as long as you like, then.” Though he still whispered, Hannibal sounded undeniably pleased. 

“What do you-- Ah, I see.” The food had run out, eliminating the need for them to sit this way. Will thought he should let Hannibal get up and do whatever he normally would on a day off, stop forcing him to spend time together. When Hannibal pressed his lips to his neck, though, Will’s selfishness won out. With a sigh he leaned his head back against Hannibal and shut his eyes. Will could live like this forever; the two of them wrapped up together, nowhere better to be. The whole thing was beautifully domestic and Will felt… cared for, more than anything. It’s what had been missing the past month, on both of their ends. 

_ Sitting together doesn’t mean he loves or wants you,  _ whispered a little voice in Will’s head,  _ if he loves you so much, why did this only happen after you broke your arm? _ Will pushed the voice away. He would revisit that thought later and have a good cry; right now, he just wanted to savour the way Hannibal’s arms felt around him. 

****

Will was lying against Hannibal’s chest, eyes closed, a blissful expression on his face. He had a soft smile, his hair tousled. Hannibal couldn’t take his eyes off him. Now and then, a sigh escaped from his lips. Hannibal pressed a kiss to the back of Will’s neck. ‘I’m sorry,’ said the kiss, ‘I’m so sorry’. It was what all Hannibal’s kisses said. “You’re beautiful, you know,” Hannibal whispered. Will shivered against him. 

Hannibal felt awful. He’d been so wrapped up in his work, time had slipped through his fingers. He thought it had been the same for Will, until he came in to see that awful, dejected expression. He couldn’t believe that Will had genuinely thought Hannibal had stopped caring about him. Squeezing his eyes shut, Hannibal kissed Will’s neck again.  _ I’m sorry. I’m sorry that in the month we’ve lived together, I’ve never found the time to do this for you.  _

It had been a pleasant surprise that Will loved this so much. Hannibal had intended it to just be a more practical way to get Will fed, until he’d seen the look on Will’s face. He looked safe and content, like the only thing Will could ever want was to sit like this. On the one hand, this made Hannibal feel wonderful, to make Will so happy. On the other hand, Hannibal felt like a grade-A monster for not doing anything like this earlier. They’d hardly managed goodbye hugs, let alone cuddling. Even before they lived together, any free nights spent together usually resulted in sex, since free nights were so rare. 

Will opened his eyes, turning his head to the side to make eye contact. Hannibal’s breath caught in his throat. Though Will’s eyes were dark and sleepy, they studied him with great intensity. Hannibal froze like a deer caught in the headlights. “You’re thinking something over,” said Will. It was an observation, not a question.

“Yes,” Hannibal got out before his throat closed. Will looked so open, so trusting and vulnerable. Those words could rarely be used to describe Will. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“Uh,” Hannibal licked his lips. The uncertainty, the stammering, it was so unlike him. Will raised his eyebrows-- of course he’d noticed. Hannibal cleared his throat. “I’m thinking about you. About how lovely you are and how… and how poorly I’ve treated you.” 

Will shook his head. “Shhh,” he whispered,“let me enjoy this.” He leaned up, closing the gap between them. Will’s lips were soft, so incredibly soft and sweet, Hannibal could hardly stand it. Especially when he felt like a rock monster: cold, closed off, and undeserving of love. 

Will’s response worried him. He hadn’t protested, or denied that Hannibal had treated him poorly. Not that Hannibal had expected that, of course, he knew when he’d messed up. But Will’s lack of protest, and therefore lack of trying to spare Hannibal’s feelings (whether that would be the right thing to do or not), showed Hannibal that Will was deeply hurting. They’d had a lovely, sweet moment together, but that alone would not solve their deeper issue. Hannibal needed to convince Will that he was loved and cared for, and he was absolutely determined to succeed. 

Hannibal kissed Will back with vigour and passion, pulling a sigh from his lips. The angle was horrendous and his leg was starting to fall asleep, but no matter; Hannibal was a man on a mission. 

Will pulled away. “I hate to do this, but I have to go to the bathroom.” Hannibal could tell he was disappointed. 

“No matter, we have all day.” Hannibal helped him remove the tray from their legs. Will was smiling, his lips kiss-swollen and red. Behind his smile, though, was a certain sadness; like he believed that everything good would disappear the moment he left the room.

“Will, I…” said Hannibal as Will reached the doorway. He was certain he had had something to say, but now he couldn’t remember. “I… really liked that, you know. We should do it again.” Will’s smile brightened as he nodded, then disappeared into the hallway.

While he was gone, Hannibal massaged his leg back to life and placed the tray on the bedside table to worry about later. He hated how much he had stammered his words. Hannibal was supposed to be a rock, a port in the storm for Will. How could he do that when he felt so uncertain? Uncertain what to do, uncertain how to fix things. 

Seeing Will like that, so content to just lie with him, Hannibal felt out of his depth. Before, he’d been certain that the way to Will’s heart was with grand gestures; making him a complicated meal for dinner, buying him an expensive new suit. Now, though, he was unsure. Maybe Will needed less extravagance, and more quality time together. 

Hell, maybe Hannibal did too. They’d spent more than an hour like that, wrapped up together in domestic bliss. Other than the guilt and the somewhat uncomfortable position, it had been heaven for Hannibal. Getting to watch Will, unabashed, and watch him respond positively to his affections. Hannibal would lie in the most uncomfortable position he could think of for hours, if Will would only look at him in that loving, trusting way again. 

That thought alone was frightening, that he was so deeply in love with Will that a simple look would--

“Lost in thought again?”

Hannibal jumped. “Yes, I seem to be doing that today.” He chuckled. When he met Will’s eyes, though, the laugh died away. Will was studying him again, and he didn’t look pleased. 

Even scowling, Will looked lovely. “I understand you feel terribly, but you need to stop apologizing and beating yourself up.” Will’s scowl melted away into something sadder. “I want to spend a lovely day with you because we both want to, not because you’re apologizing to me.”

Internally, Hannibal kicked himself for being so obvious. “Yes, absolutely.” He crossed the room, stopping just short of Will. “Here, I’m taking the apologies…” Hannibal pretended to pull a ball of something out of his chest, “and I’m throwing them away.” He mimed throwing the ball through the open door and down the stairs. Will laughed and shook his head.  _ The things I’ll do to make you happy are endless, _ Hannibal thought. He tried to telegraph this through his smile. 

“You’re nuts,” Will said affectionately, “now come help me find something to fit over this damn cast.” The two walked over to the walk-in closet. It mostly consisted of Hannibal’s clothes, though Will’s collection was beginning to grow (mainly with gifts from Hannibal).

Will selected a simple pair of blue track pants, but he faltered when it came to the top. “Why are all of my tops so tight? I don’t even remember buying this one,” Will held up a shirt that looked like it would fit a child. He raised his eyebrows at Hannibal.

“It’s not my fault you’re so devastatingly sexy in tight shirts,” Hannibal protested with an exaggerated smirk. Will tried to hide how delighted he looked, failing miserably. 

“What am I supposed to do about the cast then, hmm?” He feigned annoyance with a theatrical frown.

“I think I have something,” Hannibal said. He dug through his closet, which mainly consisted of suits. Today he was dressed his most casual, in jeans and a button down shirt. Far in the back, Hannibal dug out an old university sweatshirt. It had been too large for him, so it would be delightfully oversized on Will.

Will took the sweatshirt with surprise. “I wouldn’t expect you to have a sweatshirt from your Alma Mater laying around. It doesn’t exactly fit your wardrobe, why keep it?”

“Sentimentality, I suppose,” he shrugged. Will studied his expression for a moment, like he couldn’t believe that Hannibal would have kept something out of sentimental attachment alone. He let it go, however, and tried to pull his pants off. This proved difficult, as Will’s cast arm was essentially useless, and he grimaced every time the other hand gripped anything. 

“Here, sit down. Let me help.” Hannibal guided Will to the edge of the bed and knelt down in front of him. 

“I’m not an infant, I can do things for myself. You don’t have to be so… helpful,” Will finished lamely. He was frowning, but Hannibal could sense something behind it. Fear, maybe? But fear of what? Maybe Will was afraid that Hannibal would get frustrated with helping him, but it was difficult to tell. 

“Don’t you think that maybe I like to help you?” Hannibal said gently. He made eye contact with Will, trying to pour all the love he felt for Will into his expression.  _ Can’t you see that I would do anything for you? Anything.  _

Will’s eyes widened slightly, his expression falling away. Hannibal hoped this meant that Will had understood. Will nodded, then looked away, embarrassed.  _ That’s okay,  _ thought Hannibal, _ I can deal with embarrassment. Just as long as you know how much I care.  _

Hannibal undressed Will, as gently as he possibly could. He went slowly, focusing on the task at hand as if his focus would convince Will he was alright with helping. He slid the sweatshirt, the final item, over Will’s head. When his face emerged, their eyes met. Will was breathing hard, and Hannibal found that he was too. Silently, Hannibal pressed their foreheads together, mingling their breath. He wasn’t sure what this meant for them, but he felt-- 

Hannibal wasn’t sure how he felt. Helping Will with such a mundane task, seeing him in his university sweatshirt… it had all culminated into some great feeling. The sweater was huge on Will, larger than it had ever been on Hannibal, which made Will look so tiny and delicate. Seeing Will’s huge eyes, the expression on his face, it was all so much. 

The pair stood, automatically wrapping their arms around each other. To Hannibal, it felt like a chance at forgiveness. Like Will was allowing Hannibal to try to make things better. He hoped that’s what Will felt, too. 

Somewhere in Hannibal’s heart, a tiny boat set sail. The mission of the boat, Hannibal thought, was to help Will-- but not just help him, take care of him. Keep him safe and warm and happy, in the most wonderful, domestic ways. It was a new feeling for Hannibal; Will had always asserted that he did not need much help and Hannibal had complied. If Hannibal did try to take care of him, Will might react badly. Even still, Hannibal got the feeling that something had awakened in his heart that could never go back to sleep. 


	2. Dancing in the Deepest Oceans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up right where the last one finishes off, where they are hugging.

It had been an odd day for Will. He felt like an ever changing tide, moving from sadness to contentment in the blink of an eye. All due to Hannibal, really. It was impossible to be upset about the past month when Hannibal was being so sweet and caring. Will was sure, though, that it wouldn’t last. All of his past partners had treated him so kindly when he was upset, then returned to the same behaviour once they were forgiven. Will wanted to believe that Hannibal was different, but how could he? It’s just the way relationships worked for Will.

Regardless, Will thought there was no shame in enjoying the attention while it lasted. He wanted to soak up Hannibal’s love like a sponge, so he could reflect back on it when the love was dried up. Will snuggled in closer to Hannibal’s chest. He was surrounded by Hannibal, wrapped in his arms and wearing his sweater.

The discovery of Hannibal’s University sweater had been a surprise. Will had never thought of Hannibal as sentimental. He could be sweet, sure, but Will had never imagined he would be the type of person to keep a ratty old sweater for sentimentality alone. Will supposed there were many things he didn’t know about Hannibal; maybe their week off together would give him time to discover some of them. 

“Shall we head downstairs? Start the day properly?” Hannibal asked. He pulled away slightly, but kept his arms around Will’s waist. His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. 

“Sure,” Will agreed. Already, he was learning more about Hannibal. Will hadn’t expected him to be so… doting. It was sweet, in the kind of way that made Will want to run and hide. 

The pair parted, walking side by side to the stairs. When they reached the top of the stairs, Hannibal held out his arm for Will. 

Will quirked an eyebrow, “What’s that for?” 

“You can put your cast on top of my arm, if you like, and I’ll hold onto your hand,” Hannibal said, “so you don’t fall down the stairs.” He said it like it was a perfectly average thing that boyfriends do for each other. 

Will stared at the offered arm for a moment. It suddenly occurred to Will that for him to learn more about Hannibal, Hannibal would have to learn more about him. 

“Will?” Hannibal said. Will shook himself and accepted Hannibal’s arm. They made their way down the stairs, far slower than they probably needed to. 

“So, Will, what would you like to do?” Hannibal said cheerfully.

“What do you mean?” 

“We have all day together. We can do whatever you want to.” Hannibal smiled, but Will could sense some underlying guilt. It was like a slap in the face from reality: Hannibal was doing all this out of a sense of obligation, not out of love. 

Will pretended to be in deep consideration to keep Hannibal from learning his true thoughts. “Hmm,” He hummed. Will tried to think of what Hannibal would do if he was alone. “It would be nice to read for a while.” He tried not to sound upset. 

“That sounds lovely.” The pair made their way to Hannibal’s study/library. Will picked out the first book that looked like something he would read and settled into an armchair. He hoped that his charade of reading (and happiness) was successful. 

****

Hannibal could hardly focus on his book, he was too busy watching Will. Will was curled up in the other armchair, book on the side table with his cast hand pressing the book open and the other flipping the pages. He looked deep in thought, lost in his book. Hannibal could see his side profile, his long eyelashes dark against the soft morning light. It was times like these when Hannibal could properly appreciate Will’s beauty. 

Something about being home with Will, the promise of soft days ahead, made Hannibal feel smitten in a goofy sort of way. He felt like picking Will up just to spin him around, or get into a snowball fight with him like some sort of Hallmark-movie cliche. Hannibal usually considered himself put together, dignified, and responsible, but maybe… maybe he didn’t need to be. At least where Will was concerned; he would never judge Hannibal. 

Feeling restless, Hannibal stood and walked to the record player. He put on a classical record, a waltz echoing through the room. Will looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Dance with me,” Hannibal smiled his most charming smile, holding his hand out to Will.

“I- Okay,” said Will, sounding unsure. Hannibal pulled him into waltz position before Will could overthink his way out of it. Hannibal placed one hand on Will’s waist, the other gently holding his cast. He slowly spun the pair around the room, holding Will tight to his body. 

Hannibal recalled a scene from a movie he’d seen long ago, of an elderly man dancing with his wife to ‘their song’, despite the frailties of age. He could imagine him and Will doing the same, someday.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Will murmured. He was staring at his feet, flushed and smiling. 

“So are you.” In time with the music, Hannibal twirled Will away from his body, then back again. Will giggled, a lovely tinkling laugh. Hannibal was smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. He probably looked ridiculous, but it didn’t matter. Will was happy, and that was all that Hannibal could want. 

They danced to the whole record, their dancing slowly turning into just swaying. When the music stopped, the pair still swayed, cheeks pressed together. 

Hannibal sighed. “I’m so glad I took that time off on Monday. I’m so looking forward to spending the next two weeks with you.” 

Against his chest, Will stiffened. He pulled away from Hannibal just enough to look him in the eyes. “You asked for the time off on Monday?”

“Yes,” Hannibal said, confused about this change in emotion, “I was going to surprise you with it yesterday, but then you had to go and break your arm.” 

“Oh,” Will breathed. It was hardly more than air. He pressed his cheek back against Hannibal’s. “I’d thought that you only took the time off because I was hurt. I thought that was the only reason you were… being so nice.” 

“Of course not,” Hannibal said softly, “I’m nice to you because I love you.” He pressed a kiss to Will’s cheek. “Though I probably wouldn’t be helping you get dressed if you weren’t injured.” Will huffed out a slight laugh. 

Hannibal wondered what he could do to make Will understand how he felt. He often told Will he loved him and tried to show it in his actions, but Hannibal suspected that Will didn’t fully believe it. Hannibal hoped that their time alone together would allow him to convince Will of his love. 

Will stepped away from Hannibal, though he still held his hand. His expression was serious. “Hannibal Lecter, I officially forgive you for the past month. I hope you can forgive me in return.” Hannibal was surprised. Frankly, he had thought they had already forgiven each other.

Will waited until Hannibal said, “yes, of course you’re forgiven.” 

“Good,” Will smiled, “then let’s just enjoy our time together. No more negative feelings, no more trying to make it up to me.” The pair sealed their agreement with a kiss. 

Hannibal wasn’t sure how to read Will. He’d seemed upset at certain points of the day, and happy and loving at others. If Will said he forgave Hannibal then he would believe it, but Hannibal couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still wrong.  _ Well then,  _ Hannibal thought,  _ I’ll just have to continue proving my love to Will and hope that whatever is wrong is resolved in the process.  _ He resolved himself to his mission: make Will feel as loved as humanly possible. 

Now though, it was time to eat. Holding Will’s hand, he led him into the kitchen. 

“What are you thinking for lunch?” Will asked, seating himself on a bar stool by the kitchen island. 

“Hmm,” Hannibal hummed, looking into the fridge. On the one hand, he could make an elaborate meal for Will, which he loved to do. On the other hand, if they ordered in he would have more time to smother Will in affection. “How about takeout?”

“Really?” Will looked surprised. 

“Is that okay? I can make something special for dinner.” 

“Sounds lovely,” Will said, so Hannibal placed an order with a local Chinese restaurant. Hannibal walked toward Will with a devilish smile. “Hey, what are you- Hannibal,” Will laughed as Hannibal lifted him into a bridal carry, setting him down on the couch in the next room. Hannibal followed after, hovering his body over Will’s and kissing him sweetly. Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s back and sunk into the couch cushions with a sigh. 

When his arms tired from holding himself up, Hannibal lay next to Will on the couch. The couch was small, giving them an excuse to lie as close together as possible. Hannibal ran a hand through Will’s soft curls. Everything was soft, especially Will’s lips. Hannibal decided he would be happy to stay this way all day. 

Unfortunately, the takeout soon arrived. They ate Xiao Long Bao on the couch, sitting so close that Will was practically in Hannibal’s lap, their legs tangled together. Will’s pupils were huge, his lips red and his hair messy. Hannibal was sure he looked a mess, too, especially since he couldn’t stop smiling. Then again, neither could Will. 

“Wait right here,” Will said when the food was finished, untangling himself from Hannibal as he stood. He returned a moment later with a cheeky grin, a bottle of Chardonnay in hand. Will didn’t get the bottle open for a few minutes, though; Hannibal was too busy kissing him. 

****

Will felt like he was in heaven. Him and Hannibal were lying on the couch, the almost-finished wine bottle sitting on the floor between them. Will was lying on his back, legs bent over the arm of the chair, paying zero attention to the made-for-tv romance movie they’d put on. Hannibal was on his stomach on the other half of the couch, his face above Will’s. He was peppering Will’s face with kisses. Will was delightfully buzzed and so relaxed he could have fallen asleep. Occasionally, he tried to catch Hannibal’s mouth for a proper kiss. Hannibal, who seemed to be slightly more put together than Will, would comply with a smile. 

Will wasn’t sure how long they’d been like this, but it seemed like a long time. “Aren’t you sick of doing that?” he asked. 

“Doing what?” Hannibal’s face was upside down above him, but Will could tell he was smiling. He cupped Will’s cheek in his hand. 

“You’ve been kissing me practically all day.” 

Hannibal laughed. “How could I ever get sick of that?” He kissed Will’s forehead, then his nose, then finally his mouth. The angle was odd, being upside down and all, but Will didn’t care. He felt like he was having the best afternoon of his life, especially now that he knew Hannibal wouldn’t be doing it out of guilt anymore. 

Will was glad he had officially forgiven him. Now he didn’t have to worry about Hannibal going overboard, or doing anything that he didn’t want to out of guilt. Still, a nagging voice in his head was telling him that Hannibal was still being overly caring to win him over. Kissing all afternoon? They hadn’t even done that in the early, honeymoon phase of their relationship. 

But it was hard for Will to overanalyze what they were doing when Hannibal was such a good kisser. Will found it very distracting. 

Hannibal pulled away and Will found himself pouting. 

“You’re adorable,” Hannibal pressed a final kiss against Will’s pout, “I should start dinner, unfortunately. Do you want to stay here? You look a little tired.” Had they really been kissing all afternoon?

“Yeah, maybe.” Will felt like he was half-melted into the couch. Hannibal gave Will one more smile, ran a hand through his hair, and disappeared into the kitchen. Will turned to his side, watching the movie through half-open eyes.

“Can’t you see, Brad?” cried the blonde leading lady, “We were always meant to be together.”

“Oh, Janet,” said her love interest. The two kissed, interrupting what looked to be a winter festival. One final wide shot of the festival, and the end credits began to play. 

****

Will awoke to Hannibal kissing his cheek and gently shaking him awake. “Oh, sorry,” Will said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, “I must have dozed off.” 

“No need to apologize,” Hannibal said. He took Will’s hand, gently guiding him to the dining room. The pair took their seats directly beside each other. “Tonight we’re having saffron risotto and roast chicken. I skipped the wine this time.”

“That’s probably for the best. Thank you for making this for me, it looks fancy,” Will said. It smelled heavenly. 

Hannibal shrugged. "I could probably do fancier. Still, I hope you like it."

In between bites, Hannibal and Will talked about anything and everything. Their jobs, the book Hannibal was reading, anything they could think of. Will thought of it as making up for all the ‘how was your day’ conversations they hadn’t had time for. It wasn’t romantic per se, but it was comfortable. Will felt the sort of comfort and ease together that a long-married couple might have. It made Will’s heart ache, for reasons he couldn’t quite identify. 

By the time dinner was finished, Will was yawning. He blamed it on the late hour they’d gotten back from the emergency room last night.

“Do you want to go to bed, Will?” Hannibal began clearing the plates from dinner. 

Will nodded. “I should probably attempt a shower first. I’ll have to put the cast in a bag, I guess.”

“Hmm. It might be easier if you have a bath, that way you can dangle the cast arm over the edge.” Hannibal said sensibly.

“You’re right, that probably would be easier.” Will moved to stand, but Hannibal held his hand out to stop him. 

“I can run the bath. I’m already standing to clear these, anyway.” Hannibal motioned to the plates. Will looked at him suspiciously, trying to determine whether this was another example of Hannibal overdoing it to win him over. In the end, though, Hannibal made too much sense for him to protest. 

While Hannibal went upstairs, Will gathered a plastic bag and a roll of duct tape to seal off his cast. It had only been a day, but Will was already annoyed with having both his arms out of commission. His cut palm should heal relatively quickly, but the cast would need to be on for some time. 

When Hannibal returned, he sat next to Will to help him bag his cast. He pulled the plastic bag over the cast, sealing it with a band of duct tape around the top. Hannibal had been touching Will very gently the whole day, like he was worried Will would break. Will wasn’t sure whether he liked it or hated it. 

“There we go,” said Hannibal, “it’s not perfect, but it should keep the water out.” He smiled and once again held out his arm for Will, who reluctantly took it. They made their way up the stairs to the bathroom. 

As he undressed (with some help from Hannibal), Will said “thank you for helping me out today.” Hannibal had been quite helpful since Will could barely use his hands, but Will was honestly getting sick of it. He felt useless. 

“It’s no problem at all, Will.” Hannibal smiled, then started undressing himself as well. 

“Um, what are you doing?” 

“The nurse last night said that you can bathe with the bandages on your hand, but you shouldn’t keep it in the water too long and should change it afterward,” Hannibal said matter-of-factly, “it will be hard for you to wash yourself without water-logging your bandages, so I thought I would help.” Before Will could protest, he climbed into the claw-foot bathtub, leaving a space between his legs for Will to sit. Begrudgingly, Will climbed in afterward, dangling each arm over a side of the tub. 

Hannibal was right; it would have been incredibly difficult for Will to wash himself with his non-functional hands. Still, Will felt… bad. Hannibal was being sweet as ever, gently washing his hair, but Will just wanted to run away. He felt so horribly useless. Like he’d trapped Hannibal into taking care of him, forcing him to look after Will like he was some sort of infant. This wasn’t the sort of thing boyfriends were supposed to do. Will felt guilty for making Hannibal participate in a one-sided relationship, more akin to nurse and patient than equal partners. 

“Are you okay, Will?” asked Hannibal, rinsing Will’s hair with a pitcher. “You seem lost in thought.” 

_ Tell him _ , Will thought. He remembered numerous previous partners, begging him to just communicate. A few had given his lack of communication as their reason for breaking up with him. Will knew what Hannibal would say if he did tell him how he felt, though: that he didn’t mind taking care of Will. Then Hannibal would go back to feeling fine, and Will would continue to be upset. “I’m fine,” Will said, “Just tired. It’s felt like a long day.” 

“Why don’t we get out, then. I just have to change your bandages and we can go right to bed.” Hannibal kissed the nape of Will’s neck. 

Will let Hannibal dry him off, let Hannibal pick out pyjamas for him and help him into them. The whole time he was quiet. Will hoped Hannibal would mistake his silence for tiredness. When Hannibal changed Will’s bandages, he was so focused, so gentle. Two sides of Will’s mind were warring: one felt that this was a sign of how much Hannibal loved him; the other felt this demonstrated how much Will was taking advantage of Hannibal. 

“There’s dozens of stories of patients falling in love with their nurses.” Hannibal had a goofy smile on his face. “What do you think, darling?” He moved to kiss Will, which Will accepted.  _ He called me darling. _ The thought was rattling around inside Will’s brain, eclipsing any other thought. “Sorry,” said Hannibal, pulling away, “I should let you go to sleep.” 

“I love you,” was all Will could say. He kissed Hannibal once more, then let himself be herded towards the bed. Will felt like he was melting. How could anyone who called him darling in that sweet voice, ever not love him?

Then Will remembered each of his past partners. They’d all had sweet words and sweet gestures, just like Hannibal did, but they had all ultimately failed, had all fallen out of love with him. Many of them explosively, with fighting and screaming. He didn’t ever want to fight with Hannibal, so the thought that it would eventually happen hurt Will. In bed together, Hannibal lightly playing with Will’s hair, it was hard to imagine it would ever end. But no amount of pet names in the world would keep their relationship from eventually exploding.

Hannibal rolled, leaving Will to stare at his back. His breathing slowed and Will knew Hannibal would soon fall asleep. Will didn’t mind; he had some thinking to do. 

It had been a strange day. The afternoon had been heavenly, but the night, the bath… not so much. Will hated the way it had made him feel. He was a grown man, he should be able to bathe and feed himself. The worst part, though, was that Hannibal truly didn’t seem to mind. He’d been affectionate, loving, and patient. It was like he didn’t know that Will was taking advantage of him. Like he didn’t care about how one-sided their relationship had become. 

Will had thought that by forgiving Hannibal, he would stop feeling obligated to help Will so much and would let him figure it out, like Will would have to if he lived alone. Hannibal had been just as caring, though.  _ If he isn’t doing it out of guilt, then why is Hannibal being so over-caring and affectionate?  _ Will thought. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks: it was pity. Why else would Hannibal be so willing to take on the role of a nurse? Will was sure that was it; Hannibal pitied him for his injuries, hence all the extra affection and care. And if there was one thing Will disliked, it was feeling pitied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Will, what are you thinking? Looks like we're heading for some conflict next chapter... I update every Wednesday! 
> 
> I had some trouble with this chapter, so I hope it was still enjoyable for you. Let me know what you think in the comments.
> 
> (Also ignore the note below this one- it was supposed to only be for the first chapter, I can't seem to delete it)

**Author's Note:**

> This got a little bit more emotional than I intended! Hope you enjoyed, chapter two will be up next Wednesday.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment! They make my day.


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